T minus one day before my tray table has to be stowed and my seat needs to be in the full upright and locked position as the passengers, crew, and I hurdle through space and time. And after a night, I will step off the plane onto another planet.

And they are two different planets. For any of you who have lived or traveled to a culture as disparate from the U.S. as Zambia is, you know what I mean.

So what am I leaving behind here?
I’m leaving most of my books, clothes, and art supplies, carefully allocated to the friends who I know will treasure them most.
I’m leaving a way of life based on tilling the ground, on simplicity, and on community.
I’m leaving my snail mail address, since, for some reason, Facebook hasn’t gotten big here yet.
And I’m leaving my name. A tiny girl who was born during my time here to one of the community school teachers is now my namesake, Emmie--the Zambian version of Amy. The name means beloved, which is exactly what she will be--beloved from near and far.

And what am I taking with me to the planet of the U.S. of A.?
I’m taking a couple of memory cards full of photos to complement all the memories.
I’m taking a few wall hangings and wood-bead necklaces.
I’m taking a little sadness at the knowledge that no matter where I live, no matter which planet I call “home,” there will always be people to miss.
And I’m taking a new name, given to me by my host family here:
Taonga Ndhlovu.
Ndhlovu means I’m from Eastern Province, the Elephant Clan.
And my first name, Taonga, means grateful.

Which is fitting, because that’s exactly what I am.

Please pray for safe travels for all of us SALTers returning to the U.S. on July 19 and 20. I’ll write again once you and I are sharing the same landmass.